Human
by InfinityAndOne
Summary: [One-Shot] On the outside, Ethan is coping. On the inside, he's far from alright.


_This was half written before 'Somewhere Between Silences — Part 1' and while I had read spoilers for the episode I didn't know how it was going to play out so just decided not to include anything I knew/speculated was going to happen. So this just kind of_ … _discounts everything after the episode 'Man Up'._

 _Title from Christina Perri — "Human", a song which I had in mind when I wrote this fic (and therefore a recommended listen)._

* * *

Human

Ethan didn't believe Alicia when she said: "you're going to be okay, Ethan. I'll make sure of it." All she seemed to have done was get annoyed with him. She was more focused on their relationship than getting justice for his murdered brother, and she even thought he would choose _her_ over Cal.

And, _and_ , she expected everything to go back to the way it was. Scott was behind bars, awaiting trial, and everything was meant to go back to normal. Alicia had swanned back into his life. After they'd watched Scott be taken (kicking and screaming) from the hospital and dragged into a police van, Alicia had smiled at Ethan and pecked him on the cheek, linking their hands. Ethan had stood motionless, unreactive to her advances.

Ever since his brother died, all she'd do was sigh and groan and scold him. And now Scott was gone, what exactly did she expect? Him to take her back with open arms?

At least it seemed like she was the only person who would actually talk to him. He didn't mean to hurt people. He'd just ended up… pushing everyone away. No-one cared about Cal, no-one wanted to help him. They just treated Ethan like a lost little boy, except even that was a stretch because there was rarely compassion and generosity, just getting shouted at and told he needed to go home.

So, really, he didn't know how he ended up sitting on the sofa in his flat, a cup of tea thrust in his hands, with Alicia sitting to the side of him. He had watched her make the tea. Three sugars and what looked like a gallon of milk… eugh. That was _not_ how he liked his tea. Without a word, he placed it on the coffee table in front of him.

"Thanks," he said emotionless. "You don't have to be here, you know. I'll be fine."

Her eyes lit up as she smiled. "I'm here for you. As I said, I will make sure you're okay." She rubbed his back, but the gesture felt awkward and forced. "Look, I know now is not the right time… but I meant what I said before."

Ethan rested into the cushions. "Remind me what you said?"

She turned to fully face him on the sofa, cross-legged and sitting forward. "That I love you."

Oh. That. Of course, she'd be focused on that. It's only been — four hours? That flew by — since Scott was arrested. "Okay."

Her eyes blazed for a second. "'Okay'? Is that all you can say?"

Ethan sighed within himself. Alicia might not be the right person for him — how the hell did he ever think sleeping with her behind Cal's back was a good idea? — but she seemed to be the only person talking to him now (even if it did take for Scott to be arrested).

Be More Cal. That was what he was going to live by. He'd already decided before and he will stick by that. Now more than ever, he needed to do it. And Cal's speciality? A mask. Hiding emotions. Making sure that no-one knew how much you were hurting because if they did they'd just get tired of you moping around. And Ethan knew everyone was tired of him by now. Except maybe Alicia…

Ethan sat up and faced her. "I'm sorry. I mean… I —" did he really want to do this? Let himself into a lie? "— love you too."

Alicia kissed him.

* * *

"You good?" Alicia asked as they stood facing the entrance of the ED.

Ethan nodded once. "Yeah. I'm good." He let his eyes momentarily stray over to the peace garden and involuntarily shivered as he thought of his brother lying there, bleeding out.

"Come on then," Alicia said, blind to Ethan's inner turmoil. She grabbed his hand and jokily pulled him along. He forced a laugh that sounded unnatural to his own ears but probably normal to everyone else's. "Or we'll be late."

He allowed himself to be guided by Alicia to the staffroom. He could have been imagining it, but it seemed like there was a brighter atmosphere. The staff — his colleagues — looked lighter. Freer.

And if Ethan didn't still have the weight of the world on his shoulders, he would be able to appreciate it.

"Good to see you back," Charlie said as he approached them. He was, of course, referring to Ethan's day off. Booked by Alicia at the last minute just so he could collect his thoughts after three months of constant worry and pain and grief. It was as if she expected him to be completely free now Scott wasn't.

But it doesn't work like that!

…She doesn't need to know that, though.

* * *

"You're working through these patients like there's no tomorrow!" Alicia said happily. She playfully nudged him. "It's like you're back to your old self." She paused. "Cal would be proud."

But he wouldn't. Ethan knew that. He was a disappointment to Cal, he had been and he always will be because he can't prove himself anymore. Cal had lost his life protecting little Ethan and now Ethan had to live knowing that. In the shadow of the knowledge. And he could do nothing to show his thanks.

Scott should have killed him instead. Like he was supposed to.

Still, he nodded like he agreed, smiling. His face ached with the fakeness of it.

* * *

Ethan slammed the door behind him. He'd made his excuses to Alicia at the end of their shift, "I just want to get an early night tonight." She'd looked disappointed but accepted it without saying anything. But it wasn't like she needed to say anything, her face and body language said it all. She was annoyed with him for wanting to be alone.

Honestly, it had only been two days since Ethan had agreed to get back together, and he was already wondering if it was more trouble than the ounce of comfort was worth. He didn't want to string her along, and maybe if he put up with it for a while he'd get back the feelings he once had. At least it meant one person had openly forgiven him.

Or maybe not forgiven, just put aside.

Ethan trudged into his bedroom, not bothering to make himself dinner or even get a drink. He was worn out from work and he couldn't get the image of Scott's sneering face out of his head.

He unzipped his jumper and threw it messily on his bed, sighing. He felt the familiar stirrings of emotion. The blockage in his throat, the tightness of his chest, the dampness in his eyes. So without even needing to think about it, he made his way to the other bedroom in the flat.

Cal's bedroom.

Cal's clothes were still on the floor, a couple of drawers were still open. Hangers were collected by his wardrobe and his duvet was half hanging off the bed. Ethan had only been in there a couple of times since. Once when he got home on the night of… of when it happened (he slept on the sofa after that) and again when he got home from his brother's funeral.

He collapsed face down onto the unmade bed, smelling the faint hint of Cal's aftershave on the pillow. He held the pillow close to his head, letting his tears fall, soaking the fabric. "I miss you, Cal," he whispered.

* * *

Ethan lay awake for most of the night, both haunted and comforted by memories of his brother. He'd done that a lot. Replaying conversations that he'd had with him, trying to imprint them in his memory forever. The last time he spoke to him, he never ever thought it would be that — the last time. He never got to tell Cal that he loved him or to thank him or to apologise for anything and everything.

So he had to make sure Cal knew before he died. And he had to make sure he'd never forget anything Cal said to him. But that also meant that, at 3 in the morning, all that swam around in his head was: "You've got me for life, Nibbles."

And worse, "I love you". Because Ethan didn't say it back.

* * *

As soon as Ethan walked through the doors, he was bombarded with information. "RTC on the motorway, Ethan. Get changed, we need all hands on deck." He nodded quickly and rushed off, ready to get through another day. Alicia gave him a quick kiss on the lips as he entered the staff room and she exited, but he was more focused on the concerned glance Jacob threw in his direction.

* * *

He felt a presence next to him and looked up from where he was sat with his head in his hands, worn out from a busy start to the shift.

"You look tired."

Ethan laughed breathily. "Everyone does, Jacob."

"It doesn't look like you slept," Jacob mentioned, leaning on his arm facing Ethan.

"I slept like a baby."

Jacob looked doubtful. "There's no shame in not being up to working. Scott —"

Ethan looked away at the mention of Scott's name.

"— was only arrested a few days ago, and you seem perfectly fine, but —"

"Jacob, look," Ethan said as he turned back to face him, irritated that Jacob had to pester him like this. "I appreciate the concern, but seriously, I'm okay. I'm good — _he_ 's gone, there will be justice, and I'm moving on."

Jacob looked warily at him. "If you're sure?"

Ethan smiled. "Yeah."

* * *

He rang in sick the next day. The end of his shift brought the end of a life — of a poor 17-year-old who was the victim of a failed mugging. He was stabbed.

 _Stabbed_!

So he rang in sick, not bothering to get changed out of his day-old clothes as he lay on Cal's bed, silently crying. He didn't know how Cal did it, putting up a mask. It was exhausting. And Alicia seemed to only like him when he was fully engaged.

So he was just starting to give up now. Work could wait.

* * *

"I thought this was all sorted!"

Ethan knew she wasn't just referring to Cal's room. She had 'popped' in after her shift to find him curled up on Cal's bed, having neglected to eat or drink or shower or change.

"You have to get back to normal, Ethan."

Ethan took a step back from her. "Normal? Normal?! In case you'd forgotten, my brother was murdered! My only family left and he's _dead_!"

Alicia rolled her eyes. "It's been three months, Ethan. It's like you're not even trying to move on!"

"Oh, what would you know? You have a mum and a dad and you have no siblings. Not only have I lost my adoptive mum, I lost my birth mum and my brother. Within 3 _stupid_ years! 3 _years_ and my life crumbles. And all you can do is be fed up with me! The biggest thing you have to worry about is when you're next going to have sex!" His mouth dropped open. "No, wait. I didn't mean that."

She looked apologetic when he first started speaking before her face hardened. "Oh, poor little Ethan. You weren't the only one affected, but unlike you, we all got over it! Cal's _dead_ , Ethan. You have to accept that. You hurt people, you hurt _me_."

"Not anymore," he muttered.

"What?"

"Not anymore. We're done, Alicia! Finished! I don't give a _damn_ anymore."

She pursed her lips. "You don't mean that."

"Oh. I think I do," he ground out.

She threw her arms up in the air. "Fine! I'm tired of you anyway!" And she stormed out.

* * *

"Well done, Ethan," he slurred to himself as he was stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He took another swig of the whisky bottle. "Lost yet another person."

He held Cal's stethoscope in his right hand, before launching it at the mirror. It fell into the sink with an unsatisfying clunk, making no damage to anything.

He pointed at his reflection with the whisky bottle," you." His hand shook. "You deserve to be the dead one."

The bottle met his lips again and the burning liquid fell down his throat. "Cal was so much _better_ than _you_. Stronger. Cleverer. Smarter. Prettier. Loveable." The bottle slipped through his fingers and cracked in the sink, and Ethan fell to the floor with a thump. "Just… _better_."

* * *

The sunlight creeping through the window alerted him to the fact dawn was breaking. Another day had gone, another was starting, but it was just another day without his brother. He was almost certain he should be feeling physical pain from sitting in the same position for 8 hours, but he just stared at the dirty white tiles numbly.

Ethan's head snapped up to the closed bathroom door as he was sure he heard his name being called. The only person who had a key to his flat was Alicia, and her voice couldn't have become that deep in 8 hours. He shrugged and looked at his hands, certain he was imagining it.

"Oh, Ethan."

When he looked up this time, the bathroom door was open and a sad looking Jacob was stood there. He made his way over to him, glanced into the sink (which still held Cal's stethoscope and the smashed remains of the whisky bottle) and knelt down in front of Ethan.

"Alicia gave me the key… come on. You can't sit here all day."

"Yes I can," Ethan whispered. "It's not like I've got anything else to do."

Eventually, Jacob had persuaded Ethan to get up from the bathroom floor. He was unsteady on his feet — probably a result of barely eating or sleeping for two days — and was guided by Jacob to the sofa. Ethan, for some reason, found comfort in the company Jacob offered. He wasn't pushing for anything, he never did, and instead was quietly supportive while still making Ethan feel safe.

It was almost like having Cal back again.

Jacob handed Ethan a steaming cup of tea. No sugar, a tiny bit of milk. Just how Ethan liked it. He wrapped his hands around it as if it was the only source of warmth and comfort, taking a sip of it and feeling it soothe his throat. He wasn't even aware it was sore, but that's probably what happens after crying for hours. Jacob's hand rested supportively on his shoulder, and although Ethan couldn't really find the energy or happiness to smile, he looked at Jacob appreciatively. Jacob smiled back like he understood. "You're going to be okay, Ethan. I'll make sure of it."

And Ethan believed him.


End file.
